• __brahmleen 5w

    ~~••Silence of princess rose is like the quietude of poets••~~

    Scratch eats the lips of the world,
    As an evening lone yard's hush,
    Steals a princess with soft,
    Feet like the sheet of sky,
    Enchanting the rosary of dew,
    Knocking the doors of heart.

    Brides and grooms amid the floral pew,
    Like kites dancing in hues,
    Blue and green peep through the tree lashes,
    To seek the felicity in the dim walls of mind.

    The palace where lord of hell and heaven resides,
    Early nirvana touch of golden shore,
    Hastily as gulping the sugar ,
    Rhapsodic cascade melts to pat the life,
    And celebrate the ethereal creation,
    Like hails run the cosmos to twinkle the shines.

    Emerald gown with necklace of mist,
    To write poetry on the Yellow hair of Spring,
    Am I a poet to solace the inner?
    Gaze my quietude in him,
    As Cocos nucifera during the winter.

    Guests visit as he visits the word,
    We the cherries of same blossom,
    Night's silver linings are hopes,
    King of stars chokes,
    Active thorns in clogged pores of skin,
    I pour the serenity to blood,
    With new birth in my palace,
    To depart the holy mole of kindness.

    // Silence of princess rose is like the quietude of poets//

    Breath is pierced to wreath,
    For bridesmaid to pleasure the,
    Bride for the groom,
    None wanders to see my,
    Groom, I travel by unknown mitt,
    chance to kiss the,
    Wet layer is worship as bare beam,
    Of moon feeds the gloom.

    Swelling strives from matted to entangled,
    As a usual thought of enigma,
    And lady's garland strives to adieu her owns,
    Does human to whisper the song,
    In the ears of world.

    Dark is dandy to wrap the flora scars,
    Beneath the forest of sky,
    To sleep till new sun enters the eyes.

    //At night, we should place our flora scars in the lap of lord. So,he can create light through them//

    Wires touch with variety in burlaps,
    Hard, soothing chenille,
    Are to begin the pretty shape,
    To cord the shrubs of life.


    // In this life, we meet many kinds of people some are good while others are different.At the end of our circle with them, they all give us the morals through which we become empathetic and better in achieving good//

    βrαhmleen